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Special Episode: Jason Calacanis

They drew a decent crowd and put on a fun show. Eventually, they broke up, and the world kept on turning. Strangely enough, certain people claim that from the burned-out ashes of this nameless crew rose the fierce phoenix that is The Gay Blades. This is an almost unbelievable hypothesis for several reasons.

Whereas the old band painted in broad, pop-friendly strokes, The Gay Blades splatter the canvas with visceral, genre-defying aplomb, setting their pop leanings underneath layers of distortion, confrontation and sweat. Whereas the old band would bring you breakfast in bed after a night of mediocre sex, The Gay Blades would be long gone by daylight after one of the best nights of your life.

And whereas the old band featured about six or so dudes, the Gay Blades weigh in at a lean and mean two: Clark Westfield and Puppy Mills. If you missed their debut Ghostsdo yourself a big favor and pick that up right away. Several tours around the country and across the Atlantic have earned The Gay Blades a devoted and growing international fanbase.

Raising the bar without abandoning the smell of the barBaltulonis helped them enhance their already-impressive stock of natural charms. The loud is louder. The grand is grander. The sex is sexier. The Blades knock it out of the park each time. At the heart of the matter, Westfield — besides being a charismatic if slightly disturbed frontman — is also an ambitious and formidable songwriting talent.

Who are you, really? I am a ranting, raving nobody, with an agenda to set something on fire. My parents named me James Dean Wells, which is actually a far more memorable name than my nom de guerre Clark Westfield. ROR: Were you surprised by the rabid reception of Ghosts? Did it lend much pressure to the creative process when you were writing Savages?

CW: I was surprised that anyone cared, for sure. It seems that its not until you find your voice, that anyone will care. For me apparently, it meant creating a sort of reflection of what rock bands are perceived to be to the music fan. These days, that delivery process is a bit more genuine, though still reminiscent of a punk rock gala gone awry.

CW: That motherfucker is a motherfucker. Dean has a great ear for pop songs and we share very similar taste in aesthetics. We were talking the other day about how we wished the record sounded a bit sexier at points, but I went back and listened and I have to admit, Savages is fucking sexy. ROR: You suffered the tragic loss of a relative while touring for Ghosts.

Did some of the songs on the new record help you to process some of that emotional trauma?